Rag Doll.

Rag doll, rag doll, tossed around and torn. She was a pretty little thing, carried through the years, taken everywhere, everybody adored her. She had no imperfections, she was silent, and smart. She was everything you asked for.

But you loved to toss her around, throw her at the walls; tear her open, because she couldn’t cry. It was impossible for cloth to have tears, and that’s all she was. A few pieces of cloth, sewn together.

But what happened, what happened when you tore her open; beyond the point she could be stitched back up? She was open and exposed, the insides spilling out onto the floor.

But you didn’t seem to care, you kept at it, ripping and gnawing, threatening to make it so you couldn’t even see her blue button eyes.

Rag doll, rag doll, tossed around and torn, she’s nothing but a few scraps of fabric, no heart and no eyes. Rag doll, rag doll, tossed around and torn, she’s no one, nothing, you don’t exist. A forgotten stuff toy, shoved in the corner of the room, after you’ve had your round with her. She’s sitting in the corner, waiting for someone to give her some more stuffing and some eyes, she’s waiting for someone to take her into their arms, and hold her at night.

Rag doll; she just wants to be loved.

Rag doll just wants someone who has a heart to love her. She just wants someone who won’t tear her apart like that.

Rag doll, she’s just tossed around.